Gus & the Multiple Personality Disorder
by Sin-t-a-h
Summary: Set after Season 1 episode 7 'Who Ya Gonna Call'; Gus suffers from Dissociative Identity Disorder or Multiple Personality Disorder and he indulges some long repressed desires as his alter ego. Some disturbing stuff happens. M for a reason. SLASH
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Gus and the Multiple Personality Disorder**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Psych. I make no profit from this story.**

**A/N: **_Set after Season 1 episode 7 Who Ya Gonna Call? Gus suffers from __**Dissociative identity disorder **__or Multiple Personality disorder and he indulges some long repressed desires as his alter ego. (__**Dissociative identity disorder**__ is a psychiatric diagnosis and describes a condition in which a person displays multiple distinct identities or personalities, known as alter egos). Some mature and disturbing stuff happens._

**A/N:**_ I apologize for all grammatical or other errors. English is not my first language._

It was Saturday morning. Shawn was slightly worried. Last night he had called Gus to ask him whether he wanted to join Shawn in a Lost Boys marathon. But Gus had not answered his phone. It was raining, so Shawn had not gone over to check on his best friend, but this morning he was going to find out what was up with him.

As Shawn walked towards the door of Gus' apartment building, he mused that Gus had been pretty moody this last week; probably due to stress from work. He was still somewhat mad about how Shawn had drugged and kidnapped him during their last case. He had been frantically trying to catch up with lost work, and Shawn, not appreciating the lack of attention from his best friend, had been getting up to more and more shenanigans. All this resulted in an even more stressed and irate Gus.

Shawn knocked on Gus' door, "Gus? You there? Wake up, man, it's nearly noon!"

Had Gus been on a drunken binge last night? Did not seem like Gus. And if he actually did, then it was unforgivable that he did not take Shawn along.

When there was no response, Shawn fished out his key (that Gus had not given to him) and unlocked the door. Closing the door behind himself, he walked through the living room and to Gus's bedroom. Gus was not on the bed. Shawn's brows drew together. As he turned and walked back in the living room, he suddenly noticed a body lying on the floor beside the sofa.

"Gus!" he ran to the still figure and knelt beside it. Gus was lying with his eyes closed and one arm under his head. Shawn looked him over; there did not seem to be any injury. Gus seemed to be just sleeping normally. Why is he sleeping on the floor? Shawn could not understand it; even dead drunk, Gus was too organized not to go to his bed. Another strange thing was that Gus was wearing nothing but a pair of leather pants. Shawn shook him by the shoulders gently and called his name. Gus stirred, and then opened his eyes.

"Sh-shawn?"

"What happened, dude?" Shawn asked curiously, "You got drunk?"

"Huh?" Gus looked around the living room, "Why am I lying here?"

"I am guessing you got mightily hammered last night…"

"I didn't… I don't think so…I can't remember anything!"

"You don't remember getting drunk?"

"I don't think I got drunk…I don't have a hangover or anything."

Shawn frowned. "Then why are you lying here, on the floor, behind the sofa?"

"I don't know, Shawn! I can't remember what I did last night!" Gus scrambled up from the floor.

"I am afraid all this work is getting to you, Gus. You need to relax; having two jobs is too stressful. Psych should be enough for you…"

"I am not quitting my real job!" Gus hissed, "That's what pays the bills."

"Okaaay, easy, buddy! Come on; let's get you to sit on the sofa. You want me to fix you some breakfast?"

Gus pulled his arm out of Shawn's grip.

"Shawn, I am not an invalid just because I…. slept on the floor. I feel perfectly fine."

After they had breakfast, Shawn asked,

"What's with the leather pants, Gus?"

Gus stared down at his own pants.

"I…. where did these come from?"

"You don't know how you got into the clothes you are wearing?" Shawn gasped, "Gus, did you hit your head somewhere?"

"NO! I just…can't remember what happened last night."

Shawn was getting more and more worried. He was not used to the grueling task of worrying. Having his best friend have memory loss was not something he would want a repeat of anytime soon.

"Maybe you should see a doctor…"

"No, it's just this workload, and stress." Gus said firmly, "I don't need a doctor."

When Shawn insisted on Gus seeing a doctor, Gus got pissy again, and threw Shawn out of his apartment. Which was really unfair. Shawn did not know what had gotten into Gus; pushing his lifelong BFF out of the door. Jeez!


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: Gus and the Multiple Personality Disorder**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Psych. I make no profit from this story.**

**A/N: **_Set after Season 1 episode 7 Who Ya Gonna Call? Gus suffers from __**Dissociative identity disorder **__or Multiple Personality disorder and he indulges some long repressed desires as his alter ego. Some mature and disturbing stuff happens._

**A/N:**_ I apologize for all grammatical or other errors. English is not my first language._

**Chapter 2**

Gus submitted his monthly report to the head and walked back to his office. It was quite stifling; he threw open the windows and looked outside. Purple clouds stacked in the sky indicated it would rain again.

Gus sighed; he had spent most of the weekend finishing the report. It had not done much to lighten his stressed out mood. On top of that, Shawn had come around on Sunday afternoon, bringing some old home videos of some embarrassing moments of their earlier life. During a supremely humiliating video of a fifteen years old Gus trying out for the swim team (wearing speedos no less) and being tripped by Shawn, Gus had flipped and taking out the tape from the VCR, had thrown it in the trash.

Gus came back to his desk and began to tidy it, straightening things so that they were exactly ninety degree with the desk. He idly wondered whether he should feel guilty for being so harsh on Shawn yesterday. Then he decided he was too stressed to be putting up with Shawn's craziness now. He glanced at his clock and saw it was nearly five. Time to go home.

Shawn noisily parked his bike in front of Gus' building. It was nearly eight; because of Gus's totally unfair (there was no point in being mad about something that happened fifteen years ago!) callousness yesterday, he had decided to sulk for a while; but he could not keep away anymore. More importantly, he was hungry and needed to raid Gus' fridge.

He took off the helmet and got down from the bike. But before he could enter the building Gus came out of the front door, walking with long quick strides. Shawn opened his mouth to ask him where he was going (and could Shawn go along), but to his surprise Gus walked past without glancing at him and went to stand in front of Shawn's bike. Shawn noticed he was wearing the leather pants again.

He went to his friend and touched his shoulder, "Hey, buddy…"

Gus turned to look at him; Shawn thought his eyes had a weird look in them. After staring at him for a few seconds, Gus spoke his first words.

"Give me the key."

"_What_? Key?" Shawn spluttered, "You mean the bike's key?"

Gus moved to take the key from Shawn's hand. Shawn took a step back and Gus' outstretched hand grabbed his shirt. There was a ripping sound; Shawn stopped to stare at his torn shirt.

"Dude, what the hell do you think you are doing…?" he yelled; Gus took this chance and snatched the bike key from him. Before Shawn knew it, Gus was getting on the bike and starting it. This was getting extremely freaky; Gus hated the bike. Shawn ran towards the already moving vehicle yelling at his best friend, his torn shirt flapping.

"Gus! What are you _doing_?"

But Gus had turned the bike and was now racing along the road at a far from safe speed.

"You didn't take the helmet!" Shawn screamed after him. But Gus was too far away to hear him now.

_**A/N: **__I apologize for taking this long to update. I developed a block. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited and subscribed to this story. Please let me know where I can improve._


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: Gus and the Multiple Personality Disorder**

**By: sintah**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Psych. I make no profit from this story.**

**A/N: **_Set after Season 1 episode 7 Who Ya Gonna Call? Gus suffers from __**Dissociative identity disorder **__or Multiple Personality disorder and he indulges some long repressed desires as his alter ego. Some mature and disturbing stuff happens._

**A/N: **_I don't really know anything about psychiatry. My description of Gus' condition may not be scientific at all._

**A/N:**_ I apologize for all grammatical or other errors. English is not my first language._

**Chapter 3**

Shawn was pissed. He had ran after the bike yelling at Gus, then trying to find him had to walk for miles in the dark, all for nothing. Shawn decided to go back to the Psych office, and when he got there, his bike was parked outside. Shawn stormed through the door, ready to give Gus a piece of his mind, only to find him asleep on the big chair behind the desk.

Shawn walked in slowly, and stood looking at his lifelong best friend. Gus was sleeping with his mouth slightly open; his dark eyelashes fluttering sometimes against his cheek. This face was more familiar to Shawn than his own, but the man who had been masquerading as his Gus lately was a completely unknown person.

Shawn picked up the ceramic pineapple paperweight from his desk and put it down again, loudly. Gus jerked awake with a start.

"Huh…"

"Gus? Are you ok?" Shawn asked.

"Shawn..?" Gus looked around himself. "Did I fall asleep in the office? Do we have a case?"

"There is no case, dude." Shawn said, growing increasingly more worried, "Gus, do you know how you got here?"

Gus looked puzzled; 'No…" he said after a while.

Shawn sighed deeply and walked around the desk to stand beside Gus. He put his hand on the other man's shoulder, the solid warm feeling reassuring him a little.

"Gus, you kind of hijacked my bike, pushed me aside and rode away into the night." Shawn announced; Gus stared at him. "After a couple of hours of running around looking for you, I came to the office and found you, passed out."

"It's… just the stress; I haven't been sleeping that well… It's not extraordinary to have a blackout!" Gus reasoned.

"It's not just the blackouts!" Shawn cried earnestly, "What about the way you behave right before that? You become like this whole different guy! And later you can't even remember it!"

"You are exaggerating, Shawn, just because I took your bike for a spin doesn't mean that I went bananas. I guess I just wanted to blow off some steam!"

"You didn't seem to know me! ME! That's not normal, Gus! It was like aliens invaded your body or something."

"Okay… there's no need to get all freaked out, Shawn; I'll just go home and get some sleep. It's this sleep deprivation because of overwork that's been throwing me a little off my game." Gus got up and stretched. " I'll become alright in the morning." He smiled at Shawn.

"Gus…" Shawn said slowly, "This has happened twice already. You need to see a psychologist."

"I am not mad!" snapped Gus. "I don't need some stupid psycho doctor probing into my mind."

"Of course you are not mad," Shawn soothed, "But maybe this…err, stress problem you have could be worked out with some professional help…"

"_Problem_? I don't have any problem, Shawn! So I took your bike out for a ride or behaved a little differently one evening; big deal!"

"Gus…"

"I have put up with every crazy episode you have had over the years!" Gus exploded. "Did I once tell you that you were insane? Didn't I take everything in my stride? I just act a little unsteady one night and you freak out and try to send me to a loony doctor! Some pal you are!"

Shawn winced at the yelling. He could see Gus was not happy with the idea of going to see a psychologist. But he really thought the problem Gus had needed some looking into.

"I am not freaking out, Gus, I just think that a doctor would do you good; I am just trying to help. Please understand that."

Gus took a deep breath and shook his head. "I am going home, Shawn. Good night." He started walking towards the door.

Shawn grabbed his wrist. "Gus, really…" His words were cut off by Gus whirling around and pushing Shawn against the wall.. Shawn stood transfixed as Gus advanced on him. There was a strange fire in those familiar brown eyes.

"Gus, what are…"

Gus' hands grabbed his collar.

"Don't call me that…" he hissed, " I am Burt; Burton Guster."

Shawn gasped. What had happened to his Gus? Had some evil doppelganger taken his place?

"I know you are Burton Guster," he squeaked, "But I have always called you Gus, remember? It's your nickname. In fact everybody…"

"Shut up! I have no such nickname." Gus shook him by the collar, "I. Am. Burt."

Shawn raised a hand to touch Gus' hand on his collar. "Gus, don't you remem…"

Suddenly Gus leaned in to press his mouth forcefully against Shawn's. Shawn did not get to finish the sentence. He forgot what he was going to say anyway.

**A/N: **_Cliffhanger! Even I don't know what's going to happen in the next chappie._


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: Gus and the Multiple Personality Disorder**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Psych. I make no profit from this story.**

**A/N: **_Set after Season 1 episode 7 Who Ya Gonna Call? Gus suffers from __**Dissociative identity disorder **__or Multiple Personality disorder and he indulges some long repressed desires as his alter ego. Some mature and disturbing stuff happens._

**A/N: **_I don't really know anything about psychiatry. My description of Gus' condition may not be scientific at all._

**A/N:**_ I apologize for all grammatical or other errors. English is not my first language._

**Chapter 4**

Shawn's brain was probably scrambled, but all his senses were super-active. His lips felt the pressure of Gus' lips, the slightly chapped feel of them, their taste that was not like any other… He could smell the slightly musky Gus-y scent coming from the body rubbing against his, the heat of it making him warm, very warm.

Shawn squeaked as a tongue traced between his lips, then pushed in to sweep savagely through his mouth. He could not clearly identify the feelings it created in him; all he knew was that his blood was roaring through his veins, his heart slamming against his rib-cage frighteningly fast.

All of it came together and fused into one reaction: panic.

_This is so weird, and scary, and freaking confusing! _Shawn mentally screamed. He tried to push Gus, laying his palms flat against his chest. Gus' body felt hot and firm through his shirt and did not budge an inch.

One of Gus' hands was fisted in Shawn's hair (if his mouth was free, Shawn would have protested against this messing up of his hairstyle), the other still holding his collar. This hand came down and fell on Shawn's waistband, then slipped up his shirt. This was too much, Shawn decided; he seized Gus' face with both hands and wrenched his mouth away from his own. Gus growled and bit Shawn's lower lip.

"Ouch! what the hell?" Shawn yelled, "Gus, can we just talk about…Aah!"

Gus had attached his mouth to the skin of Shawn's neck, right where the pulse was, and started a hard suction. _That's gonna leave a mark, _thought Shawn frantically.

Gus' hand groped his chest thoroughly, fingers brushing a nipple, nails scratching the skin. Shawn yelped and then froze when he felt the hand reach for his jeans covered crotch, which, he now realized, was hard. _Was he becoming aroused by Gus' manhandling and insane groping? What the hell!_

"Gus!" Shawn fought his hold and pushed at his shoulders. "Stop! Just stop. We can't be doing this!"

Shawn knew if this went any further, his perfectly imperfect world that had Gus as its axis would be messed up forever; this could destroy the only lasting relationship in his life and stir up thoughts that Shawn did not want to think.

Gus raised his head and their eyes met. Shawn looked into those brown eyes flecked with green and tried to find his friend. If he could just have his Gus back, he could have handled this bizarre situation.

"Gus…," he said pleadingly, "This isn't you. What are you _doing_?"

"This _is _me!" Gus said in a hoarse whisper. "I do _whatever_ I damn please!"

Gus' left hand grabbed Shawn's bottom and kneaded the flesh. Before Shawn could voice his protest, there was a zipping sound and he realized his fly had been yanked down. _Oh damn! _thought he.

**A/N: **_Hmm, I am not sure how I did with this chapter. It's probably rather awkward._


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: Gus and the Multiple Personality Disorder**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Psych. I make no profit from this story.**

**A/N: **_Set after Season 1 episode 7 Who Ya Gonna Call? Gus suffers from __**Dissociative identity disorder **__or Multiple Personality disorder and he indulges some long repressed desires as his alter ego. Some mature and disturbing stuff happens. MIND THE RATING!_

**A/N: **_I don't really know anything about psychiatry. My description of Gus' condition may not be scientific at all._

**A/N:**_ I apologize for all grammatical or other errors. English is not my first language._

**Chapter 5**

Shawn made a strangled noise as he felt his member being grabbed by Gus. No normal guy should have his lifelong best friend's hand down his pants, Shawn thought, and be hard because of it!

Before Shawn could start protesting, Gus' mouth descended on his collarbone and began a series of nibbling kisses, making his cock twitch in Gus' grip. Gus gave him a firm stroke and rubbed his thumb over the leaking slit.

"Ahh…" Shawn moaned, eyes half closed, his body fighting a war against his brain. He knew he wanted to stop Gus, but Gus did not seem too keen on stopping, and Shawn's treacherous limbs were not in any condition to fight him off.

Gus held him against the wall with a hand on his chest, and began stroking him in a steady rhythm. Shawn moaned against his will, but it was soon cut off by Gus' mouth. Gus kissed him hard, his tongue going in to touch Shawn's.

Soon Shawn was not conscious to anything but Gus' tongue in his mouth, his thumb on his nipples, and his fist on his cock. He moaned into Gus' mouth, as he felt his arousal building. As his member was given another hard stroke, he came helplessly on Gus' hand. Shawn sagged against the wall, panting as he tried to fight the daze brought by the mind numbing pleasure he had just felt.

He opened his eyes to see Gus licking his own fingers, apparently tasting Shawn's essence; Shawn's body clenched at the sight. Then he felt Gus' hands seizing his shoulders and forcing him to the ground.

"On your knees." Gus ordered.

Shawn sank to the ground in front of him dazedly. He looked up to see Gus' leather covered crotch right in front of his face. He watched mesmerized as Gus pulled down the zipper and his hard clock flew out. It had evidently been erect for a while and had generated a lot of moisture.

Gus grabbed Shawn's hair with one hand and presented the leaking cock to his lips with the other. Shawn's lips parted against the pressure and the hard member entered his mouth. He did not know what to make of the feel of the thing, it was strange (to say the least) having a cock in his mouth. His lips were stretched around it; even though only an inch or two was inside, his mouth felt quite full.

Gus seized Shawn's hair in both hands and pushed in all the way, Shawn choked as the cock hit his throat muscles.

Holding his head in place, Gus began to move in and out of Shawn's mouth. Shawn gagged and spluttered several times, but Gus was relentless.

After a couple of minutes, Gus stilled and his whole body tightened. Digging his hands into Shawn's hair, he ejaculated with a shout. His hot spurts hit Shawn's tongue one after another; Shawn swallowed some, some of it dribbled out of the corner of his mouth.

Gus pulled out and released Shawn who just sat on the floor staring at him.. Shawn watched Gus zip up his pants and straighten his clothes. He turned on his heels and walked out of the Psych office without glancing at Shawn.

Shawn stared after him, not moving from his position on the floor. For a long time after the sound of Gus' footsteps had faded, he just sat there, his body spent and the taste of Gus' cum in his mouth.

**A/N:**_ I have realized once again that I am terrible at writing smut :(_

**A/N:** _I am sad that i am getting a lot of Favorites and Story Alerts, but not as many reviews. __  
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	6. Chapter 6

**Title: Gus and the Multiple Personality Disorder**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Psych. I make no profit from this story.**

**A/N: **_Set after Season 1 episode 7 Who Ya Gonna Call? Gus suffers from __**Dissociative identity disorder **__or Multiple Personality disorder and he indulges some long repressed desires as his alter ego. Some mature and disturbing stuff happens. _

**A/N: **_I don't really know anything about psychiatry. My description of Gus' condition may not be scientific at all._

**A/N:**_ I apologize for all grammatical or other errors. English is not my first language._

**Chapter 6**

Shawn sat on a big chair, his eyes taking note of his surroundings without meaning to. The walls of the room were a light shade of green, the floor a dull white. There was a brown stain on the floor near Shawn's chair, apparently caused by spilled coffee. A middle-aged woman sat opposite Shawn, regarding him from behind steel-rimmed glasses.

"Mr. Spencer, may I ask if you went to the police with your story?" the bespectacled psychologist asked.

Shawn looked at her with horrified eyes.

"Of course not!" he snapped. "There's no reason to do that, Doc."

"I see." said Dr. Moore, and scribbled something on her notebook. "You are consulting a psychologist, not for yourself, but to get help for your friend?"

"Yes, Gus is the one who is suffering from some… weird mentalistic disease. I need to know what's wrong with him. Why would I need a psychologist, anyway?"

"Because of what happened last night, you do not feel the need of professional help, to deal with the incident?"

"There's nothing to deal with." Shawn said flatly. "I just wanna know what happened to Gus to make him think he is someone else sometimes. And I wanna know how he can be cured."

Dr. Moore sighed and put down her notebook.

"Your friend Mr. Guster is apparently showing the symptoms of Dissociative identity disorder. A person suffering from this condition recurrently and alternately displays two or more distinct identities."

Shawn sighed and mentally cursed Dr. Moore's big-word-filled way of speech. It was like talking to a dictionary. He wished he could have went to Madeleine, but the story he had to tell was hardly appropriate for a mother-son conversation. It had been hard enough telling it to this break-teeth words spewing head doctor.

The psychologist in front of him continued, "So far in Mr. Guster's case, it seems that two different personality states are taking control of him alternately. One is his usual self, the other one is someone he calls Burt, who does not know you, who does things not at all normal for him in his usual state."

"Yes, he wears leather pants, steals my bike and…" Shawn faltered, "and does totally un-normal things!"

"We need to determine the cause of his psychosis. Did anything like this ever happen with him before, especially when he was a child?"

"Nope, it just started a few days ago, never happened before. When we were kids, Gus liked to pretend he was a superhero sometimes, but that's hardly the same thing."

"True, that's just playacting." Dr. Moore agreed. "Do you know if he was ever a victim of physical or sexual abuse as a child?"

"What? No!" Shawn exclaimed, wondering if this woman was crazy, "Gus' family is great; he was coddled and looked after all the time. If anything like that ever happened to him, I would have known."

"You and Burton Guster were friends since you were very young, right?"

"Yeah, since we were five; we met at school."

"So you two spent your pre-adolescent and adolescent days together?"

Shawn did not completely understand what 'adolescent' meant, but getting the general idea, he nodded in affirmation.

"Did you and your friend ever have physical relations with each other before?"

"Wha…? Physical…? No, Gus and I never did anything like that, okay?" Shawn glared at the psychologist defiantly.

Dr. Moore leaned towards him, fixing Shawn with her piercing stare.

"When you were young, teenagers, did anything sexual ever happen between you? Did you maybe…experiment together?"

"I'm telling you, no!" Shawn cried desperately. "Nothing like that, we kissed a few times when we were kids, but not like that, and why would we experiment with each other? We both like girls…"

"Wait," the psychologist interrupted Shawn's rambling, "You said you two kissed?"

_X_

**A/N: **I know I have not updated in a long time, it's just because I got a lot of alerts and favorites, but very few reviews L


	7. Chapter 7

**Title: Gus and the Multiple Personality Disorder**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Psych. I make no profit from this story.**

**A/N: **_Set after Season 1 episode 7 Who Ya Gonna Call? Gus suffers from __**Dissociative identity disorder **__or Multiple Personality disorder and he indulges some long repressed desires as his alter ego. Some mature and disturbing stuff happens. _

**A/N: **_I don't really know anything about psychiatry. My description of Gus' condition may not be scientific at all._

**A/N:**_ I apologize for all grammatical or other errors. English is not my first language._

**A/N: **So sorry about the late update, had family stuff going on.

**Chapter 7**

"It wasn't _kissing _kissing!" Shawn spluttered, "It was just… a thing! You know, kid stuff!"

"I see." said the psychologist, and scribbled something in her pad. "Can you tell me about the first time?"

Flashback

_Five year old Shawn Spencer helped his best friend up from the ground._

"_Are you okay, Gus? I did not mean to trip you!"_

"_You did trip me!" said little Gus, getting up and brushing himself with his hands. "Now I have a bump on my forehead!"_

"_I was practicing my kung-foo." Shawn told him. "And you don't have a cut or anything. No blood."_

"_It hurts," Gus said stubbornly. "I need my mom."_

"_Why?" Shawn whined. "It looks fine. Let's just play-"_

"_My mom can kiss it better." Gus said in a grave voice. "She always kisses the hurt away."_

_Shawn looked skeptical._

"_How does that work?" he asked, not quite believing Gus' mom had any such super power._

"_She kisses where I have a bump or cut."_

"_Does it get better?" Shawn probed._

"_Yes, it gets better a bit later."_

"_Well, then I can do that too!" Shawn declared. "You don't have to go home for that."_

"_You can do that?" Gus looked at him doubtfully._

"_Sure." Shawn said firmly. "Come here."_

_Gus shuffled closer, and Shawn, putting both hands on his cheeks, touched his lips against the swelling on Gus's forehead. He kept his lips there for a few seconds, hoping to convince Gus of their healing power._

"_There, it will get better right away." Shawn said as he pulled away. "Let's play Morlock Hunt now."_

"_Okay, but I get to be the hunter."_

End Flashback

"See?" Shawn said to the psychologist, "It was nothing! Just a kid thing."

"I hear you, Mr. Spencer." said Dr Moore. "Now, you said this was the first incident?"

"Oh yeah…"

"So what was the second?"

"Nothing, nothing at all!" said Shawn, "Just some silliness on a swing set once…"

Flashback

"_Run, Gus!" yelled an eight-year-old Shawn Spencer, "It's coming after us!"_

"_Why did you have to tease the dog?" Burton Guster yelled back, as they both sprinted across the street._

_Gus reached a five-feet high wall and began to climb over it._

"_Wait for meeee!" screamed Shawn from behind, the bulldog almost at his heels. Gus sat astride the wall and helped Shawn climb up. Then they both jumped down on the other side, stopping for a second to listen to the dog's angry barking._

"_Phew!" said Shawn. _

_They were near a playground now, which was empty at that moment, it being high noon and scorching hot. They walked over to the swing set and plopped down on it._

"_I think I have a fabia about dogs now." Shawn declared._

"_Phobia, Shawn." Gus corrected._

"_I have heard it both ways."_

_Gus snorted._

"_Thanks for helping me get on that wall." said Shawn in a burst of emotion. "You are my best friend, Gus."_

"_You know that's right!"_

"_I think, we should, like, make a promise that we'll be together for ever."_

"_Like a vow or something?" asked Gus._

"_Uh, yes." Shawn agreed, not completely sure what 'vow' meant. "How do we do that?"_

"_Maybe we have to write it down, and sign it…" Gus said thoughtfully._

"_Okay. And you know what would be cool? If we pricked our fingers and mixed the blood!" Shawn said excitedly._

"_Blood? But...wouldn't that be painful?"_

"_I saw it in a movie my mom was watching." Shawn told him. "That's the way to make a unbreakable promise."_

"_Well, then, maybe we should kiss." said Gus. "I saw it in a movie Joy likes. The soldier told the princess that they would be together for ever, and then they kissed."_

"_Okay, we can do both." Shawn said generously._

"_I say we do the kiss thing now," said Gus, "and keep the blood-mixing thing for later." _

"_Oh alright then." relented Shawn; he was feeling pretty charitable towards his best friend._

_Gus leaned forward to place his mouth on Shawn's, trying to copy the characters from Joy's Disney movie. Shawn pressed back against his lips with enthusiasm. The kiss lasted for about four seconds. After they both pulled back, Gus smiled at his friend._

"_Together for ever, Shawn."_

End Flashback

"Is that all?" asked Dr Moore, her lips twitching.

"Yeah, until that time Gus' dad walked in on us and told us off…"

_X_

**A/N:** Is this chapter as silly as it seems to me? :o


	8. Chapter 8

**Title: Gus and the Multiple Personality Disorder**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Psych. I make no profit from this story.**

**A/N: **_Set after Season 1 episode 7 Who Ya Gonna Call? Gus suffers from __**Dissociative identity disorder **__or Multiple Personality disorder and he indulges in living out some long repressed desires as his alter ego. Some mature and disturbing stuff happens. _

**A/N: **_I don't really know anything about psychiatry. My description of Gus' condition may not be scientific at all._

**A/N:**_ I apologize for all grammatical or other errors. English is not my first language._

**Chapter 8**

"We'll have to discuss the rest of your story tomorrow, Mr. Spencer." Dr Moore said a little regretfully, "Its time for my next appointment."

"Oh." said Shawn, somewhat relieved that he would not have to suffer more of the doctor's soul-probing right now. "Okay, I'll come back tomorrow at 3 pm sharp."

As he got up, Dr Moore said, "Don't do anything …hasty in dealing with your friend."

Shawn sat on a singularly uncomfortable chair in a busy little coffee shop. He was alone at the blue-and-white checks covered table, waiting for his breakfast. Shawn had not slept much in the previous night. In fact, he had not slept much after _the incident _in the Psych office two days ago...but Shawn would not let himself think about that, or everything would have to be relived, in vivid details.

Shawn gave himself a small shake.

"The service here is crap." he muttered, not too quietly. A passing waiter gave him a dirty look.

Shawn closed his eyes, and began to play Henry's favorite game with himself. Four hats in the room, he mentally recounted, two young men with red caps, a tan hat on an old guy enjoying a huge breakfast of egg Benedict, sausages, waffles and coffee, and a homemade Jughead beanie on a curly haired teen.

A waitress put Shawn's order in front of him. A burrito, and a pineapple smoothie. As Shawn reached to pick up the smoothie, the waitress' honeyed smile and glinting eyes put him on his guard.

_She spit in it, _thought Shawn, _that waiter must have ratted._

He gave the waitress an equally honeyed smile, and put the smoothie back down. The girl huffed and stomped away.

When Shawn had finished his breakfast, (he left the smoothie untouched; it broke his heart to waste a pineapple smoothie, but he was not going to drink some psycho dame's spit!) he rode to the Psych office. He froze in the doorway as soon as he entered. Gus was at his desk, calmly going through the accounts, sipping from a Starbucks cup time to time. He looked up to see Shawn, and smiled.

"Hey Shawn."

"He-ey, Gus." Shawn replied. He looked at his best friend closely. Gus looked relaxed and serene, very unlike the last time he had seen him. "You are here bright and early."

"Yeah, got some good sleep the last few nights." Gus told him. "I know I have been a little cranky lately. Sorry about that."

"Cranky? Uh...yeah. Its cool." said Shawn. He walked to his desk, and started to fiddle with the collection of random things on it. His hands shook slightly. He was very aware that this was the first time he had come in close proximity of Gus after what happened.

"So, any new cases?" Gus asked. Shawn jumped.

"No, unless you count the vanishing pangolin mystery the Chief called me about yesterday. Solved it over the phone." He was lying of course. Shawn had not been answering his phone. His mind had been in a state of utter chaos.

Gus gave him a look that said _Yeah right!_ and went back to the accounts.

Shawn sat down on his chair and booted his computer. Now he did not know how to act around Gus. It would have been better if they had a case to keep them busy. He peered at Gus over the edge of the monitor. Gus was wearing a blue button down and grey slacks, his clothes were as crisp as usual, not a crease in sight. His face looked the same as ever too, the big brown eyes in the cinnamon skinned face, the pouty lips. Somehow, subconsciously Shawn had expected him to be different. Somehow it seemed to him that Gus should look different, because surely Gus could not do those things to Shawn, and still look like the same Gus of old! The way Shawn had looked at Gus for twenty-five years had changed. Hell, he felt _he_ had changed! Was he the same Shawn Spencer as he was before?

Gus' finger was tapping on the desk surface as he concentrated. The very fingers that had touched Shawn's skin, Shawn's cock...

Shawn wondered what would happen if Gus had a sudden attack of his illness right now. What would he do? Would he look at Shawn with that strange fiery look again? Would he grab Shawn and push him onto the desk?

Shawn's brain was working overtime, conjuring up image after image.

_Gus pushes him onto the desk surface hard (it hurts just a little, not much). He leans down, letting his breath caress Shawn's neck. One hand is holding his wrists above his head in a tight grip. The other hand slides over Shawn's torso, brushing against his nipples, letting the thumb count the ribs. Now Gus' breath is on his lips, tantalizing, making him wonder if he is going to kiss him or not. Gus' hand grabs Shawn's crotch in a slightly painful way, making him simultaneously gasp and buck up against the hand. A wet tongue slips into his mouth-_

"Shawn?"

"Aa-h... huh?" Shawn was startled out of his impromptu fantasy. He realized that his right hand was on his denim covered cock, which was straining against the material. Gus was staring at him from across the room.

"Why are your eyes glazed?" Gus asked a little suspiciously, "You are not jerking off to porn in the office, are you?"

"N-no, of course not!" Shawn denied, and planted his eyes firmly on the computer screen. His face was flushed and hot.

He could not believe he came so close to jerking off to fantasies of being ravished by his best friend in the office, with said best friend sitting right there. Damn!


	9. Chapter 9

**Title: Gus and the Multiple Personality Disorder**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Psych. I make no profit from this story.**

**A/N: **_Set after Season 1 episode 7 Who Ya Gonna Call? Gus suffers from __**Dissociative identity disorder **__or Multiple Personality disorder and he indulges in living out some long repressed desires as his alter ego. Some mature and disturbing stuff happens. _

**A/N: **_I don't really know anything about psychiatry. My description of Gus' condition may not be scientific at all._

**A/N:**_ I apologize for all grammatical or other errors. English is not my first language._

**Chapter 9 **

"Let's continue where we left off, Mr. Spencer." Dr Moore said.

"Um, yeah, where were we again?" asked Shawn, even though he knew the answer perfectly well.

Dr Moore gave him a look. "Mr. Guster's father walked in on you two."

Shawn sighed. He did not want to do this. Some memories were best hidden away, in a box with a big heavy lock; not forgotten, of course, because Shawn did not forget anything.

"This seems so pointless," he whined, "How is it going to do Gus any good, talking about some stupid stuff that happened a gazillion years ago?"

"Psychological disorders often have their roots in childhood experiences," Dr Moore said, a touch of exasperation in her voice. "Now, let's not waste any more time."

Shawn sighed even more deeply and began.

FLASHBACK

_"You can't be the zombie, Gus." Shawn told his friend firmly. "Playing black zombies is offensive."_

_Gus considered this for a moment, it made no sense. Shawn and his ultra PC ideas usually did not._

_"Why would that be offensive, Shawn? Can't a dead black man walk just as freely as a dead white man?"_

_Shawn threw Gus a _Dude-don't-be-dense _look._

_"Because of Michael Jackson." he said, like it explained everything. Gus raised an eyebrow. "Thriller...zombies...hello? Its a stereotype."_

_"No, its not." said Gus. _

_"You know how in the movies they always show only black kids doing the thriller dance!" Shawn said, warming to his theme._

_"That's because black kids are more athletic and can dance better." Gus said in a superior voice._

_"White guys can do it just as well!" Shawn challenged, goaded. He put on a record and music filled the room._

"Well, shake it up baby, now, shake it up baby, twist and shout, twist and shout!" _Shawn lip-synched, dancing in front of the entertainment system . _"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon baby now, come on baby, come on and work it on out!"

_Gus watched him critically. "Your steps are too slow." he commented. "You gotta move your legs faster."_

_"The legs are not what matters," Shawn said, who was no great dancer, "Its all in the hips. Watch the hips. Shake it up, baby!" he twirled and moved his hips with the beat of the song._

_He through Gus a saucy look over his shoulder._

_"That's not even the Thriller dance!" Gus exclaimed. His eyes clung to Shawn's ass. Shawn concentrated on shaking his booty, running his hands through his own hair in an exaggerated sultry fashion. "Stop that, Shawn!" _

_"I do it way better than you do!" was Shawn's protest. He stopped dancing and wiped the light sheen of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand._

_"I do a great Thriller, and you know it." Gus told him. Shawn did know it and he decided to let this one go. Plopping down on Gus' bed, he announced, "We'll watch Ferris Bueller's tonight." _

_"We watched that last week." Gus said, sitting down beside Shawn." And the week before."_

_"Its like potato chips." Shawn argued, "Watching it just once does you no good."_

_"I veto against Ferris Bueller."_

_"Well, what's your suggestion?"_

_"Hmm, we could watch Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure."_

_"Good idea!" approved Shawn. "Those dudes are awesome."_

_So they popped the cassette in, and the movie came on._

"I am Bill S. Preston, Esquire!"

"I am Ted...hold on, Bill, here you take it... I am Ted 'Theodore' Logan!"

_"Why does he call himself a square?" wondered Shawn._

_"Not 'a square', Shawn, esquire. Its a title of respect." Gus explained._

_As the movie progressed, Shawn said, "They are a lot like us, aren't they?" _

_"In some ways..." agreed Gus. They watched as Ted hit a medieval armor wearing man on the head with a heavy object to save Bill. The onscreen friends hugged. "We don't have a band though."_

_"They are best buds, they are going through all this trouble just 'cause they won't let Ted's father separate them." Shawn scooted near his friend and put an arm around his shoulder._

_"If we were Bill and Ted, who do you think would be who?"_

_"I'd definitely be Ted, 'cause I am tall like him." decided Gus. "And you would be Bill, 'cause he is blond."_

_"Well, Alex Winter is better looking anyway." Shawn declared, though he secretly thought Keanu Reeves was pretty fine too._

_"Hmm, he is kind of cute, but Keanu Reeves is more manly." _

_"Since I am so much more manlier than you are, I must be Ted."_

_"Puh-lease, Shawn, you make Michael Jackson look manly. You went through a whole box of tissues when watching Its A Wonderful Life."_

_"You faint when you cut your finger!"_

_"Fear of blood is a pathological condition, Shawn." Gus said with dignity._

_On the screen, Bill and Ted were being rescued from a gruesome fate by Socrates and Wild Bill Hickok. _

_"Hey, what do you think would happen if our parents tried to separate us?" Shawn asked._

_"Why would they do that?" asked Gus, surprised. "We are not failing history."_

_"What if...one of us moves away or something?"_

_"It would never happen. We made a vow, remember?" Gus said reassuringly, putting his arm around Shawn's waist._

_"Yeah, to be best friends forever." They smiled at each other, their faces inches apart. "We'll have a truck-load of fun together, have all kinds of adventures, until we die in a flying-car crash in 2067."_

_Gus grinned and leant forward to brush his lips against Shawn's._

_"Gus! Shawn!"_

_The boys jumped and looked up to see the frowning face of Mr. Guster._

END FLASHBACK


	10. Chapter 10

**Title: Gus and the Multiple Personality Disorder**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Psych. I make no profit from this story.**

**A/N: **_I don't really know anything about psychiatry. My description of Gus' condition may not be scientific at all. This is just a fanfiction, not to be taken seriously. _

**Chapter 10**

"Well?" asked Dr Moore. "Why did you stop? What happened after that?"

Shawn jerked from his faraway thoughts at her voice. "Um... yeah, then Mr. Guster... told us that some games were okay to play, and some were not." He felt like he could hear Gus's father now, the old memory of the man talking in a calm, firm voice, as both the little boys stood with their heads hung. "Then he told me to go home."

"When did you meet Gus again? How did he act?" the psychologist prodded.

"Two days later." said Shawn, scratching his chin. "He was a little...stiff, I guess. I asked him if his dad had said anything more to him after I left, but he did not want to talk about it."

"Did...um, the dynamics between the two of you change in any way after this?"

"No! Well, not between us, but things changed a little, because Mr. G said that we spent too much time playing just by ourselves, and he and my dad got us playing basketball with a group of kids. They also made us go to scout camp."

"Why do you think that is, Shawn?"

"I don't know!" Shawn snapped, "Maybe they wanted us to become more 'manly' and un-original! Anyway, is not that your job, to think up the answers?"

The psychologist stared at Shawn for a few seconds, then said, "Okay, here's what I think, Mr. Spencer. You and your friend Gus shared a deep pre-adolescent attraction-"

"That's so dumb, there never was anything like that-" Shawn yelled heatedly.

Dr Moore raised a hand to stop him, "At least there was on Mr. Guster's side. Maybe he had acknowledged the attraction more than you did. But then after the confrontation with his father, he probably decided to repress those feelings."

"This is all con-um-conjuctichure-"

"Conjecture?"

"I have heard it both ways. Its all guesswork." Shawn doggedly said. "And why would he do that anyway, if he did feel that way, why would he hide it?"

"Shawn, you told me about your detective work, your partnership with Gus. You said, Gus was reluctant to go along with you most of the times. Can you elaborate on that?"

"Oh, he _wants _to come along, he wants all the adventure we used to dream of as kids. Gus just has a lot of hang-ups you know, like how Psych stuff is messing up the order in his life, how I am how he has to concentrate on his boring-ass job 'cause its what pays the bill, how skydiving is bad for his heart, hanging from ledges gives him carpal tunnel... But once I get him into a case, he loves the thrill, the fun. He _wants_ me to convince him."

"So Mr. Guster likes the thrill, he loves what he can find when not playing safe, but he is also the sort of man who wants order in his life. He has got a lot rules for himself. He is afraid of change, chaos."

Shawn nodded, not finding any fault with this speech. "He _is_ a contrary bastard."

"So Gus has two different sides to his personality. He wants what he wants, but he is afraid to go for it because of the side that hates disorder. If he feels something that is not okay, not allowed in his rulebook, he tries to repress it."

"Okay, I get what you are saying." Shawn said to her, "You think Gus has been going against his own feelings; keeping all that stuff he has kept in is splitting him apart; those two sides are making him two different persons!"

"That is a way to put it. The dissociative personality disorder is a form of psychosis. The root of it is deep in his psych, and it has come out because of mental and physical stress."

"But why? Why would it make him do the things that he did?"

"Gus, your friend is concerned with his lifelong values, his social image, what his family expects from him. But Burt, his alter ego does not have those concerns."

Shawn was silent for a long time. Then he looked up and asked, "Will he be alright again? You can fix him, right?"

Dr Moore sighed. "That is the hard part. DID is a very rare mental disorder, so we do not have sufficient data, research, survey, or a general consensus on treatment method. Each case is different. In Mr. Guster's case, I think the most important part is, acknowledgement. He must recognize his own feelings, and acknowledge this repressive tendency of his; then realize that he does not have to become a whole different person to have what he wants."

Shawn stared at her silently. Acknowledgement? How would he tell Gus what had happened?

"It will take time, of course." Dr Moore continued. "He'd have to go into psychotherapy for quite some time."

"How would I get him to do that?" croaked Shawn. "He would ask why, and-"

"I understand how you feel," the doctor said kindly, "I think it be best if Gus hears everything from a trained professional. What you have to do is, bring him here; tell him you are worried about his stress problem and want to see someone."

"Okay, okay..." Shawn breathed. He was not sure he could do it. But he must, for Gus' sake...

"Shawn? It needs to be as soon as possible. We don't want Gus to have another attack. He might do anything in that state. You understand that, right?"

"Yes...," Shawn muttered. "Yes, I'll bring him here."

_X_


End file.
